Grave
by fortheloveofgeekery
Summary: Sequel-ish...? Of Complications. We'll see where it goes. :) If you haven't read that one, you can still easily read this one, so its also a standalone if need be. OC/Daryl This may get a bit dark.
1. Prologue

**Hi there...so this is me just going with my original plan and starting the next...well, chapter of Rose and Daryl's story. I decided I'm *also* going to write an alternate/extended ending to Complications to tie up some loose ends that left some feeling unsatisfied. :) **

**This can absolutely be a standalone if you haven't read Complications.**

**Wasn't planning on starting this tonight, just ended up in a grim mood and thought I'd go with it...your feedback is so loved. **

Prologue

Rose had been humming, soft and quiet. Rocking and lulling, soothing and hugging herself.

She used to think she was underground. Nights and days and weeks, perhaps months had passed and she had no idea anymore.

She liked to stay curled up in the top corner of her bed-a dirty mattress and a thin yellow sheet-it reminded her of better days in the RV.

Half conscious some time ago, she had entertained herself with a lousy metaphor; her memories are oxygen. As long as she could breathe them, she'd be alright. So everyday she fought like hell to keep them fresh.

If she thought she was forgetting something important she would panic. Gasp for air and tremble until she either brought the memory back or passed out.

Every now and then, though, she'd think those thoughts poison. They infected her and tasted like hope on a dry tongue and she wanted none of it, because her hope vanished long ago.

But he'd always come back to her. There were times she actually believed him there. Could smell his earthy skin, taste the salt on his lips. Feel the muscles and scars on his back.

She recalled the first night she'd seen them. She had felt them before, of course, but decided she would never inquire how they came to be-she wanted him to feel comfortable enough to offer it up, and eventually he did.

She traced those scars with the lightest, most delicate touch. Kissed them tenderly. Tears fell from her eyes the whole time. And she couldn't comprehend how she had lived without him for so long. And she didn't understand how one human being could be so beautiful.

Anxiety seized her at the memory and she dug her ragged, overgrown nails into dirty palms. _You must see him, now. Open your eyes and see his blue looking back.. You must…_


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey! I've been working crazy stupid hours and haven't had a chance to write much lately. Its been eating at me...so tonight I decided to stay up until I finished a short chapter even though I have to be up in four hours for work...hell, I was watching TWD marathon anyway. Love you guys, please give feedback. Hope you enjoy...I'm dying to write this damn story! **

It was three AM. Daryl laid in the bed of the RV that he and Rose used to share. He stared at the ceiling, wracking his brain.

They'd been looking for her for two months and five days. He couldn't remember when exactly he gave the group the option to stop looking, but he also let them know he'd never stop in the same breath. As it turned out, no one had the heart to quit either.

Daryl replayed the last time he saw her over and over again in his mind.

It had been a quiet few months for the group. They encountered a few walkers here and there but all in all it remained safe enough for them to stay in the same place-and for that they were grateful.

He blamed it on himself. They had all gotten too comfortable, started resting a little too easy-but Rose was _his_. _His_ to protect and love and keep safe.

"I'm so hot", she said to him. "I just want to go to the lake for just a minute!"

It was midday, and hot indeed-Daryl wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he and Carl cleaned some fish.

"Alright, gorgeous. I'll join you as soon as we're done." He winked.

She beamed, of course, with her gleeful, child-like smile. Daryl watched her pluck a rubber band from her wrist and put her hair up with it before blowing him a kiss. Her flip-flops made a pleasant, summery sound as she walked away that somehow made the heat less horrible.

When everyone realized she was gone-really gone- they all fell silent. All of their organization and skill, their quick action, encouraging words…vanished, just like Rose did.

Daryl was the first to speak. "I don't want to hear that this ain't my fault."

He left them, then, to retrace her steps. No one followed him. It wasn't long before he found the rubber band and her two shoes-all scattered several feet from each other leading away from camp and away from the water.

Daryl knew she'd been taken. That was her way of trying to let him know, and it worked.

He didn't understand how it could happen so quickly, how no one saw or heard anything at all.

He grabbed her things with haste and ran back to the group-they were exactly as he had left them.

Glenn was facing Daryl, and he held Maggie close while she cried into his neck. He couldn't meet Daryl's eyes, just stared out somewhere far away.

Rick just looked determined. He gave Daryl a knowing look, a promise. We'll find her, brother. We'll get her back.

He didn't know about anyone else at that point, but Daryl still believed it. He could still imagine her scent, see her eyes smiling at him. He could still _feel _her, and he knew in his heart that if she were dead…or undead, he wouldn't be able to feel her anymore.

Every morning he'd brace himself for the absence of that sensation. Every morning, night, and randomly throughout the day. But it held strong and it gave him hope.

He turned on his side facing the wall, leaving enough space for Rose out of habit, one he knew he'd never break. He stared at the unoccupied pillow and imagined her there; her luminous skin in the moonlight that shown through the blinds, her dark hair that sometimes spilled over onto his pillow.

The night she disappeared was the first time he had ever prayed.


	3. Chapter 2

Rose was swimming in memories again.

It was her birthday. Maggie and Beth were pinning up her obsidian hair and adorning it with little white flowers. Her eyes were closed and her smile peaceful.

"You guys are so sweet. It's just my birthday, and you're pampering me as if I were getting married or something."

"We need the practice…in case someday you are", Beth said with a giggle.

Rose's face flushed at the thought.

When they were finished, the two girls admired their work. "So pretty", Maggie said. "And your lips have the prettiest natural color to them. Don't even need any makeup…not that we have any, but."

All Rose could do was smile. She looked to the door when she heard it open. Daryl stepped inside, grinning when his eyes met hers. Walking up to her, he said "You, miss, are incredibly beautiful", he kissed her lips softly. "But you've gotta get out for a few minutes."

She nodded and returned the kiss before leaving the RV.

Stepping down into the grass and walking to the front of camp, she surveyed who was up and about. Her eyes landed on Glenn, who was gathering wood for the fire they'd have going later.

She tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, birthday girl", he said jovially. "Love your hair".

"Compliments of your lady and Beth", she grinned.

He kissed her cheek. "They do good work."

Rose started to help gather wood, to which Glenn protested "No one does work on their birthday!". She shook her head playfully and continued. "This is hardly work".

It didn't take long for them to gather a substantial amount of wood. Just as they were finishing up, Beth called for them to come back to the RV.

"Birthday girl first", Glenn said as the door was opened for them. Rose stepped into the trailer and instantly gushed.

On the table was a cake-rather, several small snack cakes stacked and pressed neatly together and frosted over to make it look like one traditional cake. It had fancy red and pink _roses_ on top.

There were balloons strewn all over the trailer.

Rose's eyes filled with happy tears as she looked at all of the people she loved so much. She knew they'd gone far out of their way to do this for her.

Her memories of that day were sharp, and certain things were especially vivid.

Daryl's arm draped around her shoulders while Maggie cut the cake. She could see his fingers resting on her in her peripheral vision. The color of Maggie's hair in the sun filtering through the window. Hershel's kind eyes smiling at her. The soft, peach colored blanket on their bed just in front of them…

Her eyes squeezed shut and she swallowed hard as she recalled that day. Just as she was about to let that one go for a while and replay the next thing that came to her, the door opened. It was a heavy door, old to boot, and it groaned loudly as it swung open.

A tall man entered with a battered cafeteria tray. He grunted as he sat it down on the floor next to her mattress. His hands and face were filthy and he smelled like blood. The tray contained a nearly rotten apple and stale bread with some kind of red jelly.

Rose could feel her body press into the corner. She didn't look at the man. Eyeing her empty cup-which had been empty for some time-she squeaked out "could I have some more water…?". Her own voice sounded alien to her.

The man spat at the ground. "If you're lucky, kid. Eh, reckon its best. Got someone finally comin' to look at ya today. Don't need you passin' out." His voice was gruff and careless.

Rose felt she was going to be sick. She turned her head into the wall, tears sliding down her cheeks.

In her head, she escaped into the next memory.

**As always, friends, please review. 3 **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Sorry its been taking me a while to update. Hope it will be easier to write more once my schedule changes at work, and hopefully that isn't too far off. Thanks for staying with me, and of course I love your feedback. It keeps me going. :) **

Rose stood with her arms wrapped around herself, eyes closed. She wore a loose fitting mocha colored sweater and torn black jeans. Her hair was brushed and she was the cleanest she'd been since she was taken-they brought her a bucket and wash cloth and told her to get the dirt off. "Make yourself presentable". The words echoed in her mind like a siren.

The room she was in was large. It housed a black couch, an old but fully stocked bar, and a pool table. Wood paneling on the walls was curious to her as she looked around for a window or alternative exit. One of her captors caught her eyes moving about the space and she instantly dropped them to the floor.

"Let him take a look at you", he said gruffly. He pulled her by the arm until she was right next to a man she'd never seen before. He reeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol, had beady eyes and a sharp nose, and appeared to be in shape. Rose's hope evaporated like a plume of smoke at the sight of him. Just like all of the others, he'd be too strong for her to try to escape from.

He looked her over with obvious distaste. "Too tall…too pale. For fucks sake, she looks like one of the dead!" Rough hands grabbed at her, lifted her shirt. Her eyes snapped shut as he explored her body hastily with his hands, looking for wounds.

"Well, at least she ain't bit!", he laughed, amused with himself. "And what the fuck is wrong with her hair?"

"What do you want, man? It's the fucking end of the world, we don't got any fucking Victoria's Secret models!"

Rose's eyes were glued to the floor.

Her potential buyer sighed. "What else you got?"

"She's the only one right now. Had a decent blonde until a couple days ago. Got a good bit of booze, food, and supplies for her. It ain't easy finding these girls, you know. You could be a little appreciative."

The man scoffed. "Come see me when you have something worth my time", he said, turning and walking towards the door.

"Fuckin' asshole", her captor mumbled. He looked at Rose with what she would only describe as a mild version of disgust. Sighing heavily, he shook his head before calling for someone to escort her back to the room she was kept in.

Once inside, she forced herself to speak to the man as he was closing her door. "No one will want me…please. Let me go. I have a family. People that love me…" Tears ran down her cheeks like small rivers.

"Lookin' in the wrong place for sympathy, sweetheart. And I hate to piss in your cornflakes, but if no one comes for you, you'll be left to one of us…" He looked at her passively and shrugged. "You ain't so bad, I guess. We're beggars, after all."

Rose stifled a sob, her shoulders shaking. She met his eyes and searched for any sign of a soul, some capability of compassion. It was hard to read him. He was obviously shut down, but didn't have the utterly hardened look of some of the other men there-she wondered how many there actually were.

She breathed deep before asking "Do…did you have family?"

The man laughed. "Oh, _kid_. Don't try that psychology shit with me. Don't try it with anyone else, either. Some of us may not react as kindly. Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be." He paused, half-heartedly searching for something profound to say. "Listen. This isn't personal. This is life, now. You're a casualty of a different sort instead of being walker bait."

A suffocating fear spread over her as she realized there was no winning. No way out, no one that cared here. Her chest constricted and heaved as she tried to take control of herself.

"Knock that shit off, by the way", the man said before walking out.

She held out her hands and tried to keep them from shaking. Breathed in and out. Leaning her head back against the cold wall, one word surfaced in her mind.

"_Kid_…"

And the condescending, nonchalant tone of the man that just left the room vanished and was replaced by a soft, loving voice. Sincere and kind and familiar. She pictured Daryl's face, pictured him walking up to her like that day she showed him she could shoot the bow-the first time they'd kissed.

The memory was heart-breaking and yet she couldn't live without it, without all of them.

She could almost feel his lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair. The way the air seemed to become electric. The way his touch seemed to right any wrong in the world.

She started to argue with herself. If she were to try to escape, did she have any chance at all? Would it be worth it no matter what happened if she were caught?

She thought of these things as her mind continued to replay the memory. She bashfully buried her face into his warm neck as she realized she had to try. To get back to him. To them, her family.

She'd have to bide her time, though. Try to figure some things out, somehow gather some information as to her whereabouts and how many people occupied this place.

Sandals in the grass. The group was looking for her, she knew. Would've been, regardless. She was certain.

Laying down on the floor, she curled into a fetal position and hugged herself. Pulled the dirty sheet up to her shoulders and tried to pretend it was the blanket in the RV.

Yes. A shot at getting back there was worth any consequence, no matter how severe or unthinkable.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning was cool and atmospheric. Gray, thick clouds congested the sky. Fog invaded the ground and covered the camp. Everything seemed stifled and silent, adding another layer of heaviness to the group

Daryl opened up the map they used to keep track of all of the places they'd looked for her. It was fairly expansive. The more ground they covered, the angrier he became. They hadn't found anything at all.

Shaking his head, he ran his hands over the map. "Doesn't make any fucking sense."

"They took her further than we originally thought", Rick said solemnly. He skimmed the map with weary eyes before putting a solid, brotherly hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"We have to fan out further…they couldn't have gone much further, right?" Beth asked in her quiet sing-song voice.

No one said anything, just looked around at each other and then at Daryl. Most of them were thinking the same thing, they just didn't want to say it.

Beth took Maggie's hand and her older sister squeezed it.

"Guys…", Lori began carefully. "We have to be realistic at this point and acknowledge that we might not find her."

Daryl glared at her, and to her surprise Rick nearly matched his look. At first it made her feel small, but that quickly dissolved into annoyance.

"Come on. I'm not the only one thinking this-"

"I gave you an out! You ain't gotta be here!" Daryl raised his voice.

Lori looked completely exasperated. "But I am, aren't I? We all loved Rose."

"No. You didn't. Especially after-" A strong, even female voice. Maggie's.

"Fighting won't find her…", Beth interrupted.

Everyone's eyes found Beth's, surprised at the sharpness in her tone. Rick nodded towards her.

"She's right. Participation in the search is optional, but being civil with each other isn't. We certainly don't need any more negative energy." He looked at his wife, who was scowling at him.

Andrea put a gentle hand on Lori's back but remained silent. Sometime during their argument, Carol had taken a few steps away from where Lori stood and had moved closer to Maggie and Beth.

One of the places they looked was back at their old camp. Thought maybe there was a chance someone got comfortable there with their fire pit and the few random things they'd left behind.

That wasn't the case, and being back where Daryl's feelings for her first started to bloom was unbearable. Glenn saw his eyes linger in the area their tent used to be-Glenn also was having a hard time being back at their previous home.

Standing next to Daryl, he said quietly "I found her with her bow right back there." He pointed to the tree and the old fence. "She was looking for a place to practice. She wanted to surprise you…" He immediately felt awful and foolish for bringing it up. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what I was-"

"Its okay", Daryl said sadly. His voice became a whisper. "She did, you know. Took me out to that old rotten tree and showed me what she could do. I kissed her…", his voice trailed off.

Glenn closed his eyes, not knowing what to say.

"Everyone thought she was so weak, you know? And I'll be the first to admit that she's vulnerable but…her spirit is so _strong_. I believe she can make it until we can find her."

"I believe she can, too", Glenn replied honestly.

Daryl looked to his friend and gave him a thankful smile. "I'm ready to get the fuck out of here. Lets go look at the map."

Since that day, Daryl began sticking closer to Glenn and Maggie. For the first few weeks she was gone he withdrew from everyone, even them. That exchange with Glenn reminded him that they loved her too, and being with them was the closest he could be to Rose in her absence.

"We're gonna go further north", Rick said, highlighting their trail with a red pen.

"What if they took her far away?" Carl asked. "What if she's states away from us now?"

"They'd have to be pretty damn well set up for something like that. And I can't think why anyone would risk it. …I don't think that's the case." Rick replied.

Daryl shook his head. "Me neither." He looked to the group.

"If you're comin', let's go".


	6. Chapter 6

When Rose was small her mother took her to Boston to see her grandfather. They were gone for one week.

She didn't get through one night without crying for her father. Her mom would have to call her husband in the middle of the night so Rose could talk to him, and even then she'd just start crying again when she had to say goodbye. It was surprising to both of her parents, and maybe even to Rose herself.

Her time was thoroughly occupied the entire week-her grandfather spoiled her immensely while she was there-but she couldn't get past the fact that her dad wasn't there with her for those experiences.

The day they were to go home she was ecstatic. She gave her grandfather a big hug then pulled her mom into the line to board their plane.

When they arrived at the airport in Georgia she held her moms hand until she saw her dad at the end of the hall-she let go and took off straight for him, but her shoelaces were untied and she tripped, falling on her knees. Rose was always delicate, and normally something like that would make her cry, but she got up instantly and kept running. Laces still undone, she fell again, and yet again before she actually reached her dad. It didn't faze her in the slightest. She jumped into his arms and clung.

This was the memory swirling around in her mind before she faded into slumber. Once she was asleep, her unconscious mind delivered her (as it usually did, and especially since she'd been taken) into a nightmare.

_ She was in an empty room so devoid of light it seemed as if she were floating. There was no telling how large or small the space was but she could feel her back pressed against an invisible wall._

_ She was alone and then she wasn't; Daryl was there suddenly kneeling in front of her with tears falling from his eyes._

_ Rose lurched forward, throwing herself into him, sobbing. "Daryl…Daryl…". Her arms wrapped around him desperately. He was crying audibly now, held her tightly in his arms and carefully sat her back against the wall._

_ "This is my fault", he cried. "Look at you…" He ran his hands over her hair and wiped her face and neck with his shirt._

_ Frightened and confused, she tried to reach out and put her hands on his shoulders but he just cradled her again. "Daryl…I don't understand. I'm fine…just get us out of here."_

_ He looked at her with such dreadful sadness it made her panic, and she noticed the ground around them was wet. Felt it seeping through her clothes. Sticking a hand into the liquid, light was shed on her hand and she saw that it was blood._

_ "Daryl? What happened?!"_

_ "Baby…its not mine. …its yours."_

_ She shook her head and he caressed her cheek with the sweetest touch before kissing her lips. Once so full of color and warmth, now cold and pale._

_ The last image she saw was Daryl looking at her, his beautiful eyes flooded with tears. He looked so scared and…alone. "I don't know what to do", he cried. "Don't leave me."_

"Hey!" The door swung open. "What the hells goin' on!"

Rose had been screaming. It took a minute to realize that she was now awake, jostled harshly back to reality by a new voice.

"I get that they gave me this shift because I'm the newbie, but damn! Didn't tell me I'd be lookin' after a psycho!"

She cowered in the darkness, pulling the sheet tight to her chest.

"You can scream like a fuckin' banshee but you can't talk?" The man threw on the light, chuckling. "Ah, that's rich!"

The bright light made her head spin as she worked up the courage to look at her visitor.


	7. Chapter 7

Rick was riding shotgun next to Daryl in the truck, lost in thought.

His own heart ached every day they didn't find her-he couldn't begin to imagine what it was like for Daryl.

The feelings were somewhat perplexing to him. The draw he felt to Rose, the affection he had. Looking in the side mirror back at his wife, he sighed. How could she have contempt for such a kind, sweet person? The suspicion she had that Rick pined after Rose didn't help things…he tried to communicate several times that he didn't see her that way-couldn't even if he wanted to-she was too sweet and gentle. He simply felt compelled to keep her safe the way he would Carl.

Needless to say, that didn't go over well either, and that was the last time he tried to reassure her.

Rose was so good for Carl. Sophia, too. Rick went to check on them one night and found her in between the two kids, reading. Sophia was propped up on Rose's leg and Carl was resting his head against her shoulder, all three of them looking content. When her eyes met Rick's he could tell she was enjoying it just as much as they were.

They asked for another story and she happily obliged. She quietly closed the door after she'd tucked them in and was heading for the RV when she saw Rick sitting by himself in front of the fire.

The flames stirred faintly as she took a seat next to him. They illuminated her milky skin and made her eyes and smile that much brighter.

"Sitting out here all by your lonesome, darlin'? What's on your mind?"

He smiled. "Oh, you know. Stuff."

She elbowed him softly. "Ah, yes. I know all about _stuff_."

Nodding knowingly, he replied "I figured you would."

They both watched the fire, watched golden embers dissipate into the night sky. The silence was comfortable, but Rose wasn't satisfied. She thought for a moment on how to proceed.

"I do, absolutely. I know that you are papa bear…" she smiled affectionately. "Not only to Lori and Carl, but to this whole group. And you take that on and take it in on such a deep, personal level, and it means so much to you…"

His eyes had left the fire and settled on her face as she continued to speak.

"…and you do an incredible job with it all, with everything that comes with that responsibility, and everyone is thankful, of course. But I think in the ever present concerns of day to day, they forget the enormity of what you do. So…I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you ever want to talk about…stuff. Okay? I want you to know that."

Rick opened his mouth to respond but could only smile. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "You're special, Rose."

She laughed warmly. "No, it's the people around me that are special."

After that night, he found himself occasionally taking her up on her offer. An unbiased ear. Trustworthy, rational, reassuring.

She knew things weren't great between him and Lori. She felt awful that she indirectly contributed to that but also knew the unease and distrust started long before she ever came into the picture.

As Daryl drove up the empty highway, Rick had a bitter thought.

How ironic and hypocritical it was of Lori to question him about his motives. How dare she after what happened between her and Shane?

And even more ludicrous-the way she reacted when Rose, Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn came back that day and told the group that Shane was gone.

She went after _Rose_. Of course, she didn't get far- Daryl and Glenn intercepted her angrily.

Rick shook his head and Daryl caught it.

"What's up, man?" His voice was tired and seemed far away.

Rick sighed, leaning his head back against the seat.

"Just thinking about some things, brother."


	8. Chapter 8

She didn't know his name. Didn't know what his motive was, if he had one at all. But she knew every time he came in the room his demeanor was calmer. Indifferent, but placid. Anything was better than that first night, with his obscene smirk and venomous voice that pierced her thoughts like the sharpest knife. She was afraid he'd eat her alive, the first impression of him more like an unabashed, hungry wolf than any of the others.

Over the course of what she guessed was a week or two he had become quiet. Would bring her food and water, placing it next to her silently. Sometimes he'd watch her, study her before walking out, closing the door gently behind him. His eyes weren't predatory, but she could see something wicked lying underneath that was undecipherable but disconcerting. She caught herself looking back at him more than a few times. As a general rule, she only met these men's eyes when she had to.

He pulled a chair up in front of her and straddled it. Taken aback by her appearance that night, he decided to stay a minute and check her out. Well, he didn't so much decide it- it was more like his arms reached for the chair and his legs moved towards her. He sat down before his mind had a chance to tell him to leave well enough alone.

As soon as he'd walked in he noticed something was wrong.

The look on her face was one he hadn't yet seen-her usual sad eyes marked with a heady and ever-present fear were now glazed and somewhere far away. No life, no emotion in them at all.

She was propped up against the wall, head back. Legs straight out and arms dropped at her sides. She reminded him of a marionette. He pictured strings coming from the ceiling and lifting those lifeless arms.

Alabaster flesh peaked through where her shirt had been torn up the side

seam. It was the same side that hung loose off of her shoulder as the garment was too big for her.

A stark bruise that began on the front of her shoulder and ended just below her collarbone caught his attention next. Blues, purples, and reds bright and harsh against the contrast of her skin. He wondered if there were more.

He felt a pang of unease inside him, which puzzled him to an intense degree. He had no capacity for empathy, to be sure, so why did he waste any thought on this stranger?

Sighing, he wondered if he should attempt to address her. This was none of his business…but at the same time he didn't realize he signed up to hang around and feed battered, imprisoned women like dogs. Hell, it even seemed weird to call this girl a woman. What was she, eighteen?

"Hey, kid".

No response. No sign she'd heard his voice whatsoever.

"Not gonna hurt you. Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Was it possible they drugged her or was she in some sort of shock?

He was irritated. Irritated with her for not snapping out of it, with the men that he was working for, and with himself for apparently giving a fuck about any of it.

The old chair creaked as he got up. He knelt in front of her with an unamused expression. "You better not be fuckin' with me, kid."

He knew she wasn't.

He placed his hand on her untouched shoulder firmly, putting some weight on it and letting it linger in hopes it might pull her back.

This was the closest he'd been to her. While he waited he noticed just how dark the circles were under her eyes. How tangled and clumsy her uneven hair was, like it hadn't been brushed or washed for months. How, up close, that awful bruise had fingerprints in it.

And then he saw tears welling up in those lost eyes. They spilt over her pale cheeks like tiny waterfalls.

Naturally, he expected her to look at him then. Acknowledge him in _some_ way. Move or make eye contact or speak. But she did none of these things.

Yet the tears showed no signs of stopping.


	9. Chapter 9

They came across an old storage building around noon. It was just the four of them that day-Daryl, Rick, Maggie, and Glenn.

Maggie had pointed it out-she had a hunch.

It had six units in the front and six in the back of the space. A few of the doors were rusty but otherwise it looked secure.

The building was surrounded by rough gravel, patches of sparse grass grew between the rocks and the doors.

They drove around the building, surveying their surroundings before parking in the front lot.

Glenn walked up to one of the doors and put his ear against it, listening. The others did the same until they'd gone to each door, as a precaution.

None of the units were locked, and once the group started checking them out they came to the conclusion whoever resided here left in a hurry.

Supplies were left behind. Cans of food, water, bedding. Most of the rooms just had a blanket on the floor, a pillow, and a sheet. They also had a couple of cups on the floor, some empty cans of food, and a couple of stray pieces of clothing littered about.

"This doesn't feel right", Daryl said, eyes scanning the current unit they were in.

Rick was quiet, hadn't said much since they parked the cars.

"Agreed", Glenn replied. Maggie just frowned.

They checked out every room and found the same things, except for the last two on the right in the back. These had furniture. Couches, chairs. A few blankets and pillows in each. The last room had a desk.

It was simple and old, one of those heavy schoolhouse desks teachers would have. The top had collected a thick layer of dust and was otherwise unoccupied. Daryl started going through the drawers while the others lifted up cushions and looked under furniture for any clues.

Daryl pulled out a few notebooks that were largely unused except for lists of goods and some random names. His eyes narrowed as he kept looking through the pages.

The last thing he pulled out was a pile of photographs taken on a Polaroid camera.

Girls. In those rooms. Standing with horrified expressions. Daryl grimaced as he reluctantly went through them. A few girls had tears in their eyes, others forced a smile even though their fear was obscenely obvious.

All of them wore minimal clothing, and none of it seemed to fit them quite right. Articles either too small or too large on their varying body types.

The others had walked up behind him to view the source of his stillness. Maggie held a hand to her mouth. Rick and Glenn scowled.

How many were there? He must've gone through two dozen already.

"Maybe you shouldn't-", Glenn started, swallowing hard. Rick put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

Daryl was currently looking at a girl with long, tangled blonde hair. Like all of the others, she was barefoot. Her clothes fit her perfectly. Short jean shorts and a yellow tank top that he assumed actually belonged to her. Her eyes were cut as if she was straining to look at something that was slightly behind her. Her eyes and cheeks were red and her mouth was pinched.

He held his breath each time he switched to a new photograph, but it was never Rose. Until it was.

She looked like what one could only describe as a ghost of herself. Her usual expressive face devoid of any emotion or thought, her skin that is always pale but luminescent dull and even more colorless. Dark purple/black rings under bloodshot eyes.

He stared at her feet. Pictured her sandals on them.

None of them moved or said a word; it was like they had collectively stopped breathing.

Daryl shook with a devastating onslaught of emotion. Anger, guilt, fear, sorrow. He dropped the other pictures on the desk, a cloud of dust erupting into the air. Stared at Rose some more before tucking her photo into his shirt.

Rick left the room silently.

A tear fell down Maggie's cheek and she placed a hand on Daryl's back. Glenn in turn did the same to her.

Daryl's hands balled into angry fists.

"We're going to find her", he growled, more to himself than to his friends.


	10. Chapter 10

The next time the man returned Rose was coherent.

Her arms were wrapped around her shoulders, head down resting on her wrists. She didn't have to look up to know it was him-she could tell now by the way he closed the door behind him.

He approached her quickly, squatting down a couple of feet in front of her. She met his eyes slowly, otherwise remaining completely still.

He sighed heavily, staring at her. Noticed another bruise, this time on her forearm.

"I didn't sign up for this shit", he said.

Her face didn't change. She waited.

"What they do? They rape you? Throw you around?"

Her eyes glistened and she looked away from him.

"Shit", he spat. "Where'd they take you from? How long ago?"

She swallowed.

"Listen, kid. I ain't gonna hurt you but I ain't gonna wait around for you to feel comfortable. I'm runnin' out of patience pretty damn fast. S'aint none of my concern any-"

"I don't know how long it's been", she said, her voice hoarse.

"There you go. Knew you could talk." He dug some dirt from underneath his fingernail and flicked it onto the ground.

"I was with a group…", she paused, tearing up. "It wasn't even that far off when they took me…"

He considered her words. "They set you up?"

She shook her head adamantly. "No. No way. They were like family…", she let out a sob.

"Quit crying! Won't go over well if they catch me talkin' to you, will it?"

Closing her eyes, she breathed deep, trying to calm herself.

"Dunno what the fuck to do", he mumbled.

Her speech became rushed and panicked at the thought of someone helping her escape. The possibility of seeing Daryl again.

"I'll do anything, please. Help me get out of here. Get me back to Daryl and I'll do-"

"What did you say?"

She blinked, startled by the change in his tone.

"Get you back to _who_?"

"D-Daryl", she breathed. The sound of his name on her tongue made her tremble.

The man looked incredulous and skeptical. "Daryl _who_?"

She was reluctant to give his name, wondering what the connection could be. Somewhat afraid of his reaction. Her hesitance agitated him.

"I ain't fuckin' around. What's his _name_?"

He might be her only chance, and he was likely more than a little unstable. She bit her lip. "Dixon. Daryl Dixon."

He stared at her for a long time, until his silence erupted into an unsettling chuckle. "Well I'll be god damned…"

She was tense and uncomfortable. "You…know him?"

He slapped his hand on his knee, amused. His demeanor was altogether different from when he first came in.

"Were you two foolin' around or somethin'?"

Hearing him speak of them so lightly made her angry, but she bit her tongue. "…more than that" was all she could manage, her voice cracking.

There might have been a brief flash of sympathy in his eyes. If only for a second. Daryl didn't get tied up by emotions, her feelings were likely one sided.

They were both distracted by their conversation. Didn't hear anyone approach the door until it was opening. He wasn't that careless, though, and knew whoever it was was intentionally quiet.

He acted fast, lunging at Rose and pinning her against the wall. His force knocked the wind out of her and she gasped, whimpering as his mouth found her neck. A rough hand slipped under her shirt and raked his nails over her hip, forcing another yelp out of her.

The man in front of them voiced something between a laugh and a scoff.

"Easy. Boss already roughed her up some. Don't put no more bruises on her at least."

He used his free hand to wave the visitor away, and was surprised when it was that easy. Once the door was closed and they were alone again, he let Rose go.

"Sorry…", he said, looking at her stunned face.

"Sorry!", he repeated.

"Did you have to be so rough?" She rubbed at her hip.

He scoffed. "Had to be believable, didn't it? Damn…" his expression became unreadable. "You taste sweet", he said matter of factly.

Her head was spinning. She had no idea how to take this guy.

He went quiet again, pondering. Rose watched him, knowing at this point it was best to just let him go in and out of conversation.

"That loverboy of yours is my baby brother".


End file.
